


Nightmare

by ToxicPineapple



Series: Saimami/Amasai ficlets and drabbles [14]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Conversations, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Paranoia (?), Scars, Uncomfortable Conversations, discussion of scars, discussions, healthy relationship, not any actual nightmares in the fic tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 11:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: “Uhm, it’s, a serious question, though.” He mumbles, and despite the fact that they’re standing so close to each other now, Rantaro can still barely hear him. It’s reasonable cause for concern but he doesn’t remark upon it, figuring Shuichi will continue when he feels comfortable. “I, uhm, was wondering, since you never talk about it- and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but- what are your nightmares about?”---Shuichi asks Rantaro about his nightmares.





	Nightmare

“Can I ask you a question?” Shuichi’s voice cuts through Rantaro’s thoughts and the adventurer glances over, a relaxed smile on his face.

They’re out on his father’s boat- of course, they’ve been doing so much travel via plane recently, it was only a matter of time before Rantaro decided that they had to bring it out. He can’t go by boat everywhere, as much as he’d like to; boat travel just takes way too long for that. But some places are closer to each other than others, and the boat was docked in Italy anyway, and even if he’s pretty sure Mahoko (the sister who was lost here) is no longer in Venice, he figured Shuichi would like the sights. Though, since it’s Shuichi’s first time on a boat, he had to bring out a PFD from below deck, and that was a pretty awkward conversation. (“Uh, Rantaro, Hello Kitty…?” “I’m sorry, it was my sister’s.” The conversation was over by that point.)

“You can ask me anything,” Rantaro tosses over his shoulder before lazily returning his gaze to the bow, because he’s steering and at the moment he doesn’t particularly want to crash his father’s boat. He knows enough Italian to get by here, but he’s not sure he knows how to say  _ I’m sorry, I crashed my boat because I was being a dumbass and looking at my pretty boyfriend.  _ He’s playing it safe. “You know that,” he adds, because Shuichi looks nervous.

That being said, Shuichi always looks nervous. Aside from the Hello Kitty PFD, he’s dressed pretty casually, which is strange to see because even though he’s seen Shuichi out of school before (a lot, actually, in recent months) it’s rare for the detective to dress casually. But there he is, wearing a dark blue t-shirt and jeans. Has he  _ ever  _ seen Shuichi wear jeans? Regardless, his boyfriend was fidgeting, looking between him and the water when the question was asked, so he’s probably not very confident about the question he wants to ask. Rantaro figures that’s fine, so long as he makes the detective feel comfortable to just go out and ask it, it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Ah, I know.” He can hear the small smile in Shuichi’s voice. “But it’s… kind of a personal question.”

Rantaro snorts. “You got pretty  _ personal  _ last night to be so worried about it-”

“Rantaro!” Shuichi sounds scandalised.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles, shaking his head, and hears the detective walk over. They can choose not to wear shoes on deck, though it’s a pretty lousy decision to wear socks in Rantaro’s opinion since the desk is always subjected to the spray from the water, but based on the way Shuichi’s feet make little padding noises, he assumes his boyfriend is bare footed. He didn’t check, though, so who knows, maybe he has secret latex water shoes Rantaro doesn’t know about. A pair of arms snake around his waist from behind and a head places itself on his shoulder. Rantaro smiles, but exhales shakily when Shuichi’s lips pull into a similar expression against his neck. “I’m pretty sure all of Venice can see us right now and you know that I’m sensi-”

Shuichi moves his face away, laughing slightly. “Uhm, it’s, a serious question, though.” He mumbles, and despite the fact that they’re standing so close to each other now, Rantaro can still barely hear him. It’s reasonable cause for concern but he doesn’t remark upon it, figuring Shuichi will continue when he feels comfortable. “I, uhm, was wondering, since you never talk about it- and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but- what are your nightmares about?” Rantaro raises an eyebrow, pulls a questioning expression so he can draw attention away from the fact that his heart rate speeds up, which he’s sure Shuichi can feel. It doesn’t seem to work; the detective tightens his arms around him. “It’s just, I mean, you have them a lot, and you don’t ever want to talk about them, which is fine, I just-”

“It’s okay,” Rantaro responds quietly. “I don’t mind telling you.” Whenever he wakes up from a nightmare, which is admittedly rather frequent, he never feels like talking about it, but right now the sun is out and the breeze from the boat going at the speed it is is nice. The atmosphere between them is open and comfortable, so he doesn’t mind sharing the information. As much as that’s the truth, thinking about his nightmares makes him… y’know, think, about the things that upset him, and he doesn’t like doing that. Still, Shuichi’s calmed him down from enough of those nightmares that he figures the detective deserves an explanation.

“Ah, are, you sure?” Shuichi’s uneasy frown can be heard from his voice, which is silly considering that he’s the one who asked the question. “It’s an inasive question and I fully understand if you-”

“Shuichi, it’s fine,” Rantaro laughs to let his boyfriend know that it is, but the detective still seems unconvinced, so he just starts talking, to distract him from his anxiety. “Usually I just dream about losing stuff. It’s pretty ironic considering that I lost twelve sisters, but my nightmares are typically about something like that. Losing them all over again, losing something else,” he shrugs, trying to play it off like it’s not a big deal. “Sometimes I just relive the times when I lost them.” There’s a lot to relive. Every time one of them went missing he spent the whole night searching for them, yelling out their names until he lost his voice, and then yelling some more after that. “Or sometimes I lose them again.”

Predictably, Shuichi doesn’t say anything. He usually doesn’t, the times when Rantaro is talking like this. It’s an appreciated silence, space to talk, but still something he’s a little uncomfortable with- the emptiness makes him feel like he has to fill it more. Anyone else would probably say something here, a reassurance, or something. Shuichi just starts rubbing the side of his body, as though to comfort him. It helps, though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t. And the reassurances always feel empty, anyway. He probably does just need an empty space to shove his words into.

“Not always the same way,” he continues, even though he probably doesn’t have to. “Sometimes I’ll find them and they’ll get lost again, or I’ll find them and they’ll already be dead, and I’ll have been too late.” It’s a possibility, always a possibility, albeit one Rantaro doesn’t like to think about. “And sometimes I’ll find them and they won’t- want- to come back.”

“...Rantaro,” Shuichi’s voice is faint, but he doesn’t say anything else, just his name, and it feels appropriate, if a bit nerve wracking.

“It’s fine, I’m usually just freaking myself out with possibilities.” He laughs, but even to his own ears it sounds strangled. “I sometimes thing that maybe they’ve found new lives out there, y’know?” His grip on the steering wheel tightens and he clenches his jaw to make sure that he doesn’t crash the ship, because wouldn’t that just be a delightful addition to the day. “Or maybe they- they waited for me for a long time, but I never came.” His voice sounds rough, for some reason, even though he’s not crying, and hasn’t been. “Or they hate me for losing them in the first place.”

“That would never…” but even as Shuichi starts to say it, he trails off, because they both know he can’t finish that thought. It’s not like it’s not possible. It’s been over six years since he lost his first sister, who knows how they could be feeling now? Rantaro doesn’t want to think like they won’t want to come back, because he’s  _ really banking on the fact that they will,  _ but when he’s unconscious it’s not like he can just change the subject.

“Sometimes I don’t even dream about losing my sisters.” This is probably the hardest part to admit, a recent development really, one that he doesn’t want to tell Shuichi but figures he should anyway. His voice lowers to a whisper and he hopes the detective can hear him because he doesn’t think he can raise it. “Sometimes I dream about losing you.”

There’s silence, then, just the sound of the motor and the water splashing as the boat zooms by. It’s not like boats are rare around here, so they’re accompanied by the sound of other boats, and other voices, but between them it’s quiet and the air feels heavy, like a thick wool blanket was just draped over both of their shoulders. Or maybe that’s just Rantaro, he doesn’t know. Shuichi doesn’t let go of his waist, doesn’t pull away in any way, but he’s not saying anything either, and that makes it feel uncomfortable, gross, and it’s worse that he can’t see the detective’s face. He doesn’t really want to know what his boyfriend is thinking but at the same time he needs to, can’t bear the alternative.

The silence is unbearable. “Hey, it doesn’t happen  _ that  _ often, I don’t-”

“You won’t.” Shuichi’s voice is faint, could be blown away by the wind really, but Rantaro hears it regardless, feels himself blinking, the rest of his sentence dying on his lips.

“...what?”

“You won’t lose me.” Shuichi nuzzles his forehead against Rantaro’s shoulder, eyelashes fluttering, and the sensation would usually make all the hairs on Rantaro’s body stand on end, but right now it just feels comfortable. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you’re not.” He does, actually, he trusts that Shuichi wouldn’t leave him if he could help it- he has enough faith in his boyfriend to be certain of that, and knows that the detective isn’t in the habit of breaking promises. Even if something really terrible happened to their relationship, and it doesn’t seem foreseeable at the moment but  _ who knows,  _ he’s sure that Shuichi would stick around to help him keep looking. That’s not really the issue though. “I’m not always worrying about you quitting the search, or giving up on me. Even if it pops into my head sometimes I know that you wouldn’t do that. I- I worry that something will  _ happen  _ to you.”

“What do you mean?” Shuichi sounds worried, confused, and Rantaro figures it’s understandable, but their harbour is coming up, so he doesn’t answer for a moment in favour of steering the ship over to the dock. He pulls out of the warmth of his boyfriend’s arms for a moment to turn off the vessel and anchor her to the dock, throwing the fenders over the side and making sure they’re all knotted tightly so that his father’s boat won’t get scratched. Then he moves back to the bow, checking that their permit to park here is still valid (they have an international license but it never hurts to be careful) before sighing and looking at Shuichi.

“Come with me below deck?” He asks, intending to explain down there. Shuichi nods, pulling off his PFD and dropping it onto the floor. It’s okay, they’ll get it later. The detective grabs his hoodie, a black thing that almost swallows him that they got in Spain (“You have several hoodies just like it, though…” “I like this one.”) and tugs it over is head before reaching out to intertwine their fingers.

The adventurer obliges, squeezing the detective’s hand, and they walk down the stairs below deck. It’s nice down there, there’s able to be a window that lets in the sunlight, and there’s the bed they’ve been using as well as a kitchentte stocked with non-perishable food items (as well as some bananas they picked up earlier). Rantaro ignores all of that, instead pulling Shuichi over to the bed and taking a seat so that they can talk in more private.

They sit there for a moment as Rantaro attempts to gather his train of thought. “Uhm.” He clears his throat. “I don’t think it’s a secret that my travels aren’t exactly the safest.”

“No.” Shuichi agrees, shaking his head. “You don’t usually come to me about that stuff, though.”

“Yeah, I,” Rantaro chuckles. “Before you started traveling me I figured it would just freak you out, and anyone in our class would’ve made it a much bigger deal than it is, so usually I just talk to Mukuro.” He’s referring to the Ultimate Soldier, one of their upperclassmen and one of Rantaro’s best friends. “It hasn’t happened in a while because I don’t want you to get hurt so I’ve been being more careful,” aside from the time that they had to run into a bakery because they were being chased by a gang but that’s a story they both agreed not to retell, “but it- isn’t- rare for me to get- injured. Or something. While I’m traveling. And it’s never too bad, I just-”

At this, Shuichi raises an eyebrow, as though questioning what he just said, and Rantaro sighs, because they both know the detective is right. He releases Shuichi’s hand and shuffles so that he’s sitting up better, figuring that he should just raise his shirt and show him. His hand balls in the fabric of his tee and he lifts it up to the middle of his torso, around his ribs, just enough so that Shuichi can see the ugly burn scar that snakes around his middle.

A small gasp leaves Shuichi’s lips and his grey eyes flicker between maintaining eye contact with Rantaro and looking at the scar in what passes for a mixture of shock and horror.

“D-” Shuichi seems at a loss for words. “Did you get that-”

“Traveling? Of course,” Rantaro chuckles, shaking his head. Shuichi reaches out and touches the scar and it’s not like the thing hurts anymore but feeling his boyfriend’s hand there makes his spine curve, goosebumps rising on his skin there. The detective retracts his hand but Rantaro waves him off, as though to tell him it’s fine, so slowly his fingers return to trace over the scar. “U-Uhm,” Rantaro struggles to regain his composure. “A-Anyway, it doesn’t really matter how I got it,” translated, he doesn’t want to talk about it. “But- I have a lot of- other. Scars. That you’ll probably see someday.”

Shuichi finally pulls his hand away so Rantaro drops his shirt, letting his hand fall into his lap. The detective meets his eyes. “How do you get them? What usually happens?”

“A wide variety of stuff.” Rantaro shrugs. “Not a big deal for me when I’m alone, I can handle it. Plus, I don’t really care if I- uh, nevermind.” He forces a laugh in an attempt to distract from what he just said, knowing that Shuichi won’t like it, and pulls his gaze away. “But I can’t let that happen when I’m with you. I know- I know that you can handle it, I have a lot of faith in your abilities as a detective and otherwise, but…” he bites his lip. “I just can’t stand the thought of putting you in danger.”   
  


“...so, when you have those nightmares…” Shuichi pauses, and Rantaro can see his brilliant mind at work through his eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. “You dream that something happens to me on one of our travels?” He likes that Shuichi calls them  _ theirs,  _ but it doesn’t distract from the rest of what he said. Slowly, though, the adventurer nods.

“Yeah.” His throat feels dry again. “A lot could go wrong, you know. We could get separated, I could lose you in exactly the same way as I lost my sisters. You could get shot- I mean, I’m pretty sure I don’t have any enemies right now but that’s always subject to change and there are plenty of people out there who really don’t like me much at all. We could get jumped, you could get beaten up or stabbed or something and I think I’m pretty strong but I’m not enough to defend against a group of people- and I think I look pretty wealthy as a general rule so we could also get jumped by people who don’t know me, who are just looking for a quick cash grab- I have a knack for attracting trouble, there are just so many things that could go-”

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Shuichi puts a hand on his arm and Rantaro shuts his stupid mouth, realising that he wasn’t stopping to breathe. His lungs cry against him so he closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath. “The chances of that happening are pretty slim, y’know.” Shuichi points out. “I’m careful, and you’re always prioritising my safety no matter what happens.” He squeezes Rantaro’s arm. “Even if something happens to me, you’d take care of it right away, regardless of anything else. You know that.”

It’s not like he can deny it, they both know it’s true, but Rantaro still hesitates. “That doesn’t change the fact that it  _ could  _ happen. It probably will, someday, and that’ll be on me entirely, won’t it?”

Shuichi’s expression is unreadable, but he leans forward and tilts Rantaro’s face down to press their lips together. (Vaguely, Rantaro recalls that Shuichi told him he’d kiss him every time he self deprecates, but it feels like a fuzzy memory at this point. They do happen to kiss a lot, regardless of whether or not Rantaro said anything negative about himself.) It’s a nice kiss, warm and chaste, and the detective pulls back a second later, touching their foreheads together so Rantaro can’t avert his gaze. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” He says quietly. “I’ll be okay.”

Rantaro knows, he knows that they can’t say that for certain, but Shuichi sounds confident, so he just nods, reaching out to pull the detective into a hug. It’s fine. He needs to stop worrying about it.

“When you have those nightmares,” Shuichi pauses. “Just wake me up, okay? I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, and even if I’m having an amazing dream about meeting Agatha Christie,” isn’t she dead? “I won’t mind if you wake me up for that.”

“Okay.” Rantaro breathes, nodding again and pressing his face against Shuichi’s neck. “Alright.” He decides to trust that, because even though they obviously can’t tell the future, he trusts Shuichi, and that’s enough, for the moment. Maybe it won’t be later, but it’s fine right now.

“Also,” Shuichi pauses, threading his fingers through Rantaro’s hair. “If you’re alright with it, I’d like to kiss all of your scars, someday.”

“Don’t say those things so casually,” Rantaro mumbles against Shuichi’s neck, feeling his face warm, and the detective laughs.

“Sorry,” and he’s not, but that’s alright. He hums, like he wants to say something else, and Rantaro waits, but eventually Shuichi just refrains, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head and settling back. They’ll go out and explore in a few, but Rantaro’s reluctant to pull out of the hug right now, so it can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I need to stop overusing the :3 emoticon but I've fallen back into my old ways and I can't be stopped
> 
> anyway :333
> 
> I love them so much ajbfdksbfkajs sorry it's pretty angsty though I hope y'all were expecting this one to happen
> 
> been sorta waiting to pop out ever since part two of this series
> 
> there's more to come, hopefully more ficlets and oneshots and stuff, but also to do with the uhh :333333 really big multi-chapter I'm planning for this
> 
> stay tuned gang


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